The Career Path of Small Mad.

BigMad is quite clear on what he wants to do when he grows up. He wants to invent things, make people laugh, and write poems. Sometimes he wants to be a theme-park owner (more on this at a later date), an explorer, and a scientist. He is going to build a Natural History museum and make people pay an entrance fee. If you are invited please be aware that his prices are exorbitant and slightly mercenary, and I seriously doubt the validity of some of his exhibits. The prehistoric dinosaur bone sitting in the front garden looks remarkably like a rock to me.

We are, or course, encouraging all of his interests. An active, engaged mind staves off delinquency, and it'd be nice to not have to chastise him for stealing cars or nicking the wigs off pensioners just yet.

SmallMad on the other hand, is not so sure what he wants to be. Comedian is out because his jokes are enthusiastically rubbish. An example is "Why did the bird fly?, Because it had wings". Nyarrgh.

That's not to say he isn't funny, he's naturally utterly hilarious. He makes us cry with laughter, usually at a point when we shouldn't be seen to be laughing and have to do that stern-faced, tight-lipped, shoulder-shaking walk out of his view before we double over.

He might become a sustainable energy scientist. He doesn't understand why the water that goes down the drain in the sink doesn't then go into the radiators and the toilet to be used again. "but you NEED water THERE! Why does it go down the drain?" He's got a point!

Owing to his slight obsession with insane food I think he'll become a deranged chef. As well as wanting to eat small animals, I've caught him dipping beef hula hoops into hot chocolate and loving it, putting ketchup on jelly and mixing blackcurrant squash (his) with coffee (mine). He likes asking me if we can "MAKE something".
Which is great, it means he's interested, and sees the fun in food. Like most chefs though he's temperamental. When I asked the boys when they were going to cook us dinner because we always did the cooking, SmallMad burst into tears, ran into his dad's arms and shouted at me tearfully "NO!!! I'm cooking you NOTHING!!!".
Cue shoulder shaking tightlipped room-leaving. Worryingly, I've been asked if when he comes on Saturday, he could pop out his eyeballs, roll them in golden syrup, and eat them. "LIKE THIS" Gulp!

I've said no.

Although he has years to make up his mind, only being four, he has in fact decided what he wants to be himself. From the back of the car (where he comes up with all his best lines), out of the blue, this little earnest voice announced "When I grow up, I want to be a toaster." Like we do with his brother, we'll try and do the best we can to nurture his dreams.